


Caboose's Labyrinth

by KammyClues



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Caboose misses Church :(, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, One Shot, churboose - Freeform, it's only natural that the labyrinth uses that against him lmao, same w/ genkins, wash kaikaina tucker and grif are only briefly mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:42:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24567904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KammyClues/pseuds/KammyClues
Summary: Caboose didn't know where his friends went.He closed his eyes tight for a second to reclaim his bearings. What were they doing again? He had been in a Maze with the Blues, Reds, Agent Washington and Carolina, about to fight a black hole that Genkins had made? He didn't really understand all of the details. But now, as he looked at the familiar walls and open ceiling, he was back in Blue Base, in Blood Valley.
Relationships: Michael J. Caboose & Leonard L. Church, Michael J. Caboose/Leonard L. Church
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	Caboose's Labyrinth

**Author's Note:**

> I am ride or die for some Churboose Angst. I really wanted to know what Caboose's Labyrinth would have been so I went fuck it and made my interpretation.
> 
> An excuse to write Churboose Angst and to beat the everloving shit out of Church for Catharsis lmao
> 
> Is it cliche at this point to have a """dark reflection""" trope? Bc fuck it that's what happens. Caboose fights the Dark Link version of himself to protect his man.

Church’s distorted scream still rung in his ears as he stood in a large hall, facing down Genkins. He had passed the golf club onto Agent Washington's hands so easily, unaware that the Reds and Blues would use it to skewer his best friend. He flexed his hands, the weight of the club was gone, but a sick pit in his stomach and an anxious shake in his hands was left in its wake.

Absently, he could hear Tucker say something, so he looked back up to pay attention. 

He stood alone.

Where...?

Caboose didn't know where his friends went. 

He closed his eyes tight for a second to reclaim his bearings. What were they doing again? He had been in a Maze with the Blues, Reds, Agent Washington and Carolina, about to fight a _black hole_ that _Genkins_ had _made_ ? He didn't really understand _all_ of the details. But now, as he looked at the familiar walls and open ceiling, he was back in Blue Base, in Blood Valley. 

He looked around from where he stood, giving out a quiet “Hello?” before turning around. His face lit up as he saw a familiar man sitting on the opposite side of the room. 

Church was in the middle of reassembling his sniper rifle. Not wearing the familiar pale blue armor, he sat cross-legged in his fatigues, wringing the barrel between his hands. No magic golf club was speared through his chest, nor did an agonized distorted screech come from his throat. Only quiet murmuring and an idle hum of machinery.

Church was big again, in his robotic body. The synthetic skin was still pale and his frame still skinny, his eyes green and angry. Angry- or at least frustrated at the pieces of rifle strewn around him. Caboose smiled ear to ear, relieved beyond belief to see his best friend in such good condition. The Blue Captain hurried over, but walked into something hard in the process.

A low _thung_ rang out in the room.

He stepped back, murmuring a light “ouch” before looking up. Where he stood, through the light filtering in from the open ceiling, Caboose could see his reflection. A glass wall. Caboose touched the brim of his helmet- suddenly aware of the wall’s proximity before reaching out and knocking on the glass, "Church? Look up, can you see me?"

Church did look up, but not at him. For a second, he thought the glass was playing a trick on him as a _second Caboose_ walked into the room on Church's side of the glass.

"Oh-oh. This must be a time travel thing." Caboose reasoned, deflating and knocked on the glass some more, "Hey, Me! Give Church a hug for me! A-And please don't kill him too bad later on?" He shouted against the glass, fogging up the inside of his visor momentarily.

The other Caboose looked at him, which for some reason made him feel uneasy. The double’s movements were wrong. Too stiff, too straight. Hands idle at their side instead of fidgeting with the forearm cuffs. That wasn’t him, but, it _was_ his armor. 

His best friend smiled in the double’s approach before setting down the disassembled sniper’s barrel. Church said something as he stood, but it was muffled behind the glass. He opened his mouth to speak but was blindsided by a punch.

Caboose blinked, startled. 

Wait-

The other Caboose kept punching them, again and again, in the face, the stomach, to the point that Church had to fall over from dizziness. Droplets of synthetic blood and oil splattering onto the floor.

"Wait-- that's not-not what I meant! _Stop-_ " He shut his mouth and stepped backward when Church was kicked against the glass. He stared in horror at him-- no- _Not-Him_.

Not-Him stomped onto Church's chest, there was a metallic **_crunch_ **, and the choked scream Church let out was muffled through the glass. 

Caboose felt himself shaking, terrified and angry at his doppelganger. He punched the glass, shouting at Not-Him to stop. The double didn't as they crouched over his Church, not-his hands on his neck and squeezing. Church was fumbling, pinned to the floor, trying to pry Not-Him away. For a moment, he and Church locked gazes, and all of his fear melted away, renewed into a protective fury, remembering all the anger he and Epsilon felt when fighting the horde of Texas Robots.

Caboose backed up quickly, and screamed as he charged into the glass, putting all his weight into it. The wall yielded and shattered, showering bits of glass everywhere. He kept going forward, throwing himself into the Not-Him and sending them sliding a few feet away. 

As Caboose recovered off of the floor, he scrambled to Church's side, reassuring him that he was okay. Church rasped in response, blood dribbling from their mouth and broken nose. The skin on their neck was warped and twisted from the stranglehold. Caboose frowned and quickly knelt over him, grabbing Church up in his arms and into a tight hug. Church swore at him and struggled, confused, yelling out in pain when Caboose moved them both to stand, his hand clasped over his chest where it was dented and some parts were no doubt in rough shapes. Church's robotic body let out a loud painful wheeze as it curled inward. Caboose winced at the sound, but picked Church up, hooking an arm underneath his knees. 

It was muscle memory. He'd carried Church dozens of times, much to their complaint, but he knew that Church liked the attention. Doctor Grey once mentioned something called _Narcissism_ in regards to his personality, but he did not know what that meant.

He turned his head to look for Not-Him and felt his vision go white. He found himself on his side. Something hard had hit him in the head, hard enough to send him to the floor. Church's weight was gone from his arms and he grasped around blindly. 

He tore off his helmet and rubbed his eyes. Blearily, he looked for his friend, spotting them laying a ways away, trying to pick themselves up out of the glass. Another awful whirring wheeze came from Church as he held himself up on his knees and hands, choking up and spitting out black synthetic blood onto the floor. Church shuddered before collapsing onto the floor and Caboose grimaced, worried about the glass strewn about. 

Something was broken in Church's chest. He'd seen that before on Chorus during battle. A Federal Army soldier had been run over, and after taking off her helmet to try to breathe, she had begun to drown in the blood coming up- from a punctured lung, as Dr Grey had explained.

"Church," he called, moving to try and crawl to them, "don't worry, Miss Doctor Grey will--" He yelped when his head was suddenly dug into the ground, glass cutting into his forehead. He felt a heavy armored foot on the back of his head, before it shifted and fell onto the ground right in front of his face. He reached up quickly, grabbing at the leg and hooking his fingers in the gaps of their armor, when he looked up to see Not-Him. He gritted his teeth and held on for dear life. For _Church's_ life.

Caboose managed to topple over Not-Him, grabbing onto not-his chest piece, he looked not-him in the visor. He bared his teeth in anger before grabbing not-his helmet and prying it off, breaking the locks and sending it skittering across the floor. Answers, now. "Why did you do that!?" He screamed, "Why did you hurt Church!?"

"Why did _you_?" Not-Him asked, pushing them both up to stand, sounding just as upset as he was. "You attacked Church when Genkins was in him!"

"Those were accidents! A-and I was just making Genkins get out!" Caboose cried, feeling his eyes begin to burn and blur as angry tears gathered on his lashes. He tightened his grip on not-his chest piece. "I didn't mean it those times, but _you_ did! Just now!"

There was a soft click.

Caboose looked down at Church, and saw the barrel end of a pistol pointing straight at him. He swallowed thickly. Church aimed at the two of them, squinting hard through their bruised eyes, their robotic irises flickering off and on- a crack on their forehead trailing into the crook of their eye and pointy nose. 

“Church-” Not-Him began.

“Quiet, rookie,” Church croaked, sitting up onto their knees, glass crunching beneath them. Caboose lowered his head.

It hurt him to hear Church’s voice again, especially now. He had accepted Church’s death in the months after Temple's imprisonment, but seeing them again in his time travels and now made his stomach hurt. Church's pistol shook in his grasp and it made Caboose nervous, but only a little. 

Church could never shoot him, not even at point blank- as Wash had joked about one night at their makeshift bases on Chorus. When they all had broken into Command to get Epsilon. Church's eyesight was awful, even in a robotic body, and he had broken their glasses years ago. 

Church could never shoot him, because he was still his best friend.

Suddenly, Not-Him lunged for Church's gun. He and Church both yelled out, and he ducked when Church began shooting in a panic. His focus sharpened when a stray bullet grazed one of his shoulder pads, making him hyper aware of his surroundings, alarmed and alerted. Not-Him had grabbed Church's hands and shoved them toward the ceiling in their panic, and Caboose shot up when a pained yelp came when Not-Him wrenched the pistol out of their hands to slam the butt of it against Church's head.

"Stop it!" Caboose shrieked, tackling Not-Him. He grabbed not-his arms, feeling the armor give beneath his grasp as rage began to run through his veins. 

"I won't let you hurt my best friend!" He screamed, pinning not-his arms between both of their chest plates, the pistol pressed underneath not-his chin.

He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes tightly, and pulled the trigger.

There was no bang. But Caboose felt weightless for a brief moment. He flexed his hands, remembering the weight of the golf club once again. He had always known that everyone blamed him for the majority of Church's deaths, jokingly or otherwise. He blamed himself too. He knew that Sheila, Sarge's bomb, and Sarge getting shot in the head were the only times it was _his_ fault, but he still felt responsible for all the other ones. The EMP, the Capture Unit, the Deconstruction, Genkins.

_Genkins._

He took a deep breath.

_This wasn't real._

Church died because of an EMP.

_This was just a trick._

Church _also_ died on the Staff of Charon.

_This was all a mean joke._

Church wasn't the one that made the Blues and Reds fake distress call.

He opened his eyes, finding himself kneeling on the floor of a different large hall.

The gun was gone.

Blue Base was gone.

_Church_ was gone too.

He went to rub his wet eyes and his hand hit his visor. Frowning, he blinked away tears and sat up, hearing voices nearby. As he stood up, stepped through the massive doorway, and onto the circular walk, a short yelp of Sister and Grif's angry voice prompted him toward the correct doorway. He walked a short distance, thankfully, walking up as Agent Washington was talking about Carolina and him. 

He lied about his labyrinth, knowing the truth would upset Agent Washington when they sounded so worried. His stomach hurt from grief, so he said he was hungry.

He was anything but.


End file.
